Late Night Drives
by pastelPLUNDER
Summary: Our boys always seem to be fighting, a long car ride may bring that to an end, however. OS


"And your breath smells like a garbage fire."

I think we can all agree that an hour and a half of tense silence is a hard thing to break. A lot of time had passed since either of our boys had made a sound, any sound at all in fact. Morty's yelling and Rick's screaming had long since faded from the all-of-a-sudden-too-small spacecraft. And what a line to break that silence with.

If possible, Rick's knuckles gripped even tighter on the steering wheel, his white knuckles now looking like they might actually crack under the applied force. To say nothing of his teeth. A vein throbbed in his forehead and his eyes bulged. To be quite clear, Rick Sanchez had all the tell tale marks of a man on the edge.

Not that Morty would know, what with him determinedly staring out into the deep space on the left side of his stupid angsty body.

Goddammit, can't these boys just be chill for once in their lives?!

"Anything else to say, Morty?" A snarl on the right side of Morty's stupid angsty body.

"I don't know, Rick," Morty clicked his tongue and still refused to look over, "I think I've said everything there is to say." Morty finally spare a glance in the elder's direction, "Not that you ever listen."

I guess we'll never know if Morty had anything else snarky to say, because in that moment his entire left side was crushed into the side of his grandpa's rickety old spacecraft as the man himself swerved to the right and almost crashed them onto the surface of a nearby moon.

The moon in question was, for lack of a more appropriate word, breathtaking. If you were to see it I can guarantee you you'd have stopped to stare. A whole new world of pastels so soft you might've thought the colors themselves were capable of having a texture and it would have been that of the softest velvet. A goose feather pillow covered in the fur of a totally humanely killed rabbit. Milky white swirls of clouds flying throughout the entire atmosphere did nothing to obscure the simple pinks, purples or greens of the moon's surface. They also did nothing to hide the inky black of the space around them or the dazzling light of a million stars. Yes, you surely would have had to stop and stare at this moon.

But such a sight was common to our heroes, so I encourage you alone to think on and admire this sight while our heroes argue.

Morty's outraged swearing died in two minutes of being parked on the impromptu landing spot. Two minutes of Rick Sanchez emptying his flask. Two minutes of Rick Sanchez cracking his knuckles and clenching his fists. Two minutes of Rick Sanchez grinding his teeth like a man possessed. Two minutes until Rick Sanchez put an end to a stupid two hour long argument.

"No more adventures." Rick said this like he was texting the words out. Morty gaped. The old man nodded once a second later, confident in his words and his decision. He reached for the controls to continue their journey, and to get his newly fired helper home.

"What the fuck, Rick?!" A shout came from Morty as he slapped his grandfather's hands away from the ignition, "Just like that, after one fucking fight?!"

Rick's eyebrow twitched, the argument was rekindled, "This isn't about one fight, Morty!"

Morty threw his hands in the air, ever the dramatic, "I don't even get what I did wrong! So, I kissed one girl?!" Frantic gesturing did little to help convey his anger.

Rick growled, "In an alien palace, Morty! For all you know she could've been a princess, could've gotten us killed!" He narrowed his eyes, "People don't take well to sweaty, loser strangers trying to grope their royalty."

Morty flushed bright red, "That's not what happened! And you were the most upset person, the only upset person there!"

Rick dismissed this with the wave of a hand, "You're insubordination has almost gotten us killed too many times!"

"Insubordination?! What am I, a slave?! We're partners, Rick!"

"No, you're a Morty! With a slave, I could've picked out someone useful! Someone who had an IQ over 80 or someone that could lift more than 20 pounds at a time! Or at least, for fucks sake, someone who knows an order when the hear one!" Morty flinched, "But instead I got a Morty. The worst one, by the way, no one would trade me dick for you! There's a Morty out there who's literally just on fire and you're worse! I can't even get a Corpse Morty, because you're the worst one."

Rick was panting and Morty was blinking away tears by the end of the rant. Another two minutes was taken on the moon to collect themselves.

Throughout the years, especially in recent ones, therapists and psychologists have diagnosed many new types of abuse. They could tell you, if given the opportunity, that every Morty has at least once suffered some form of abuse from their Rick.

They could probably also give you a better explanation than I as to why a Morty always comes back.

"D-Do I," A stutter vanquished 5 years ago comes back, "Do I really not get to come on adventures anymore?"

Rick rattled his flask. Empty, "No, no you can."

The sigh of relief from Morty almost wasn't audible. He had gained some confidence back, "Did you really mean all that?"

Rick grumbled and pocketed his definitely empty flask, "No."

"Good." Morty smirked at Rick, rant pushed to the back of his mind, and relaxed into his seat. Two hours of tension finally drained from his form, placing clasped hands behind his head and reclining in his chair. He grinned and closed his eyes, perfectly happy to chill for the rest of the three hour ride and maybe sleep, "You can be such a dick. God, Grandpa Rick, you're lucky I love you." He kept on smiling and slid down in his seat a bit. Rick froze.

"Morty."

"Hm?"

He popped an eye open to see Rick reaching out for him, one hand taking both of his wrists and gently pulling his clasped hands out from behind his head and holding them out in front of him. The other slid into Morty's chestnut curls, so unlike Rick's own tousled, knotted locks. He pulled a mildly startled Morty across the small space between them and pressed a kiss to his soft lips. After a moment, Morty returned the pressure before pulling back.

Morty grinned, "Not exactly what I meant, but alright."

Rick flushed, "Shit."

AN: This is for the amazing origamigoose! Please check them out on tumblr and ao3!

Shoot me a message, I love that interaction.


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